Constant
by NancyMay
Summary: What would happen if Joy had lived? A story that examines an alternative life, but ultimately comes full circle. Review and comments welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is a challenge set by coachsone. Always up for a challenge, after all I keep setting them for my English students!**

 **What might have happened if Joy had lived!**

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Matthew stood on the doorstep, wishing he wasn't. He had no idea what had happened at the Council offices, but he was sure Lucien had something to do with it, one way or another.

'Lucien, you're needed at the Council Offices,' he informed the doctor, 'there's been an accident...'

'Joy,' Lucien gasped, 'what...'

'She's alive, but hurt, badly.' Matthew started the car and pulled out of the driveway, 'she insisted we call you.'

'What happened?' Lucien knew it was his fault, he had basically told her to go snooping, to see if she could find out what had happened to Graeme Trevorrow.

'Seems like she got into a fight, took a tumble down the stairs.'

'God, Matthew, this is all my fault,' Lucien urged his friend to get him there quickly.

'How?'

'I suggested she go and talk to Carl Laidly,' Lucien admitted, 'I might have well pushed her myself.'

'Lucien, she's awake and talking,' Matthew tried to soothe his friend.

They rounded to corner to the bottom of the stairs where so recently he had examined the body of Graeme Trevorrow. Joy was lying in almost the same spot.

'We've not moved her, doc,' Charlie said, he'd laid his uniform jacket over her to keep her warm.

'Lucien,' Joy whispered, trying to muster a smile.

Lucien knelt over her and touched her cheek with the back of his hand, she looked so pale. He gave, what he hoped was, a reassuring smile.

'Let's have a look at you, shall we?' He said. Gently he put his hands to the back of her head, and began to ask questions, 'Where was the pain? Could she move her arms, legs? Any pins and needles?'

There was blood at the back of her head, she complained of pain in her back and pins and needles in her legs, but she could move her limbs, although Lucien wouldn't let her move too much. He was aware she could have damage to her spine and he mustn't let her move.

'Ambo's on its way.' Charlie came out of one of the offices where he made the call.

'When they get here she needs to be moved carefully onto the stretcher. On no account must her back be bent or jarred.' Lucien instructed. 'I'll take her head and neck, Matthew you and Charlie take her mid-section and the ambo lads can take her legs. Got it?'

'Right,' they both nodded, positioning themselves ready.

'Joy, let us do all the work, please.' Lucien looked over into her face and she smiled weakly.

Lucien rode in the ambulance with Joy, reassuring her that she would be alright.

They rushed her into the hospital with Lucien barking orders for full length x-rays of her spine, her head and then her legs, although he was sure that most of the damage was done to her spine, he had to check everything else too.

Lucien studied the x-rays some of her thoracic vertebrae were fractured as were her sacral ones.

'That figures,' thought Lucien, 'with the natural curve of the spine these would have made contact with the stairs, she must have arched her back as she fell, otherwise there would be more damage.'

He called in Nicholson to discuss the case. He knew they couldn't just leave Joy to heal naturally. She would have to be immobile for about six weeks and that could lead to all sorts of problems such as pneumonia, pressure sores and thrombosis. She needed to be operated on. He didn't trust himself to put in rods or wires, it was not his area, and Nicholson was also hesitant. Putting their heads together they came up with a plan, Lucien would contact Melbourne, there was a spinal specialist there and he hoped he could get him to come to Ballarat and fix Joy's spine. Now to tell Joy.

He went into the room they had settled Joy in. She looked so fragile in the bed, a drip administered pain relief and fluids and she had been given a mild sedative. She was still, however, alert enough to take in what Lucien told her.

'So, Joy,' Lucien squeezed her hand, 'That's the best option I can come up with. The surgeon from Melbourne is the best in his field in Australia. You would be able to move after the operation and you would heal quicker, than if we let nature take its course.'

Joy smiled, 'If you think it's best, Lucien, I'll leave it to you.'

'Get some rest,' he murmured, 'I'm going to stay with you until the surgeon arrives.'

'Will you be in there?' She asked, 'in the theatre.'

'I'd like to observe but he'll have his team with him.' Lucien replied, 'I don't have the knowledge or experience to assist and I've done enough damage for one day.'

Tears welled up in his eyes, she was so vivacious, so bright and enquiring; to see her like this broke his heart.

'No, Lucien,' she squeezed his hand back, 'I made the choice, please don't blame yourself.'

Lucien bent down and kissed her forehead, noting it was the first time he had kissed her, but hoped it would not be the last.

Lucien spent the night in the chair next to her bed, holding her hand, nodding off every now and then.

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The surgeon arrived early in the morning. Nicholson greeted him, knowing Blake was sitting with the patient. He showed him the x-rays and explained what had happened. He told him that Joy had movement in all limbs, pain down her spine and pins and needles in her legs.

'Right,' the surgeon, Mr Sharkey, said, 'If we put wires in these three vertebrae here,' he indicated the top of Joy's spine, 'and here in the sacral that should keep the cord safe and enable her to heal and have a long and happy life. She may suffer from backache occasionally , and some stiffness, but she will walk and dance, live life normally.'

Nicholson shook his hand as Lucien came into the office. He introduced the surgeon and together they discussed what they were to do. Lucien was pleased that Mr Sharkey was able to give such a promising prognosis for Joy.

The three went into Joy and told her what was proposed. Again she let Lucien guide her and smiled when they said they would start as soon as a theatre became available, so she should be being operated on within the next two hours.

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Lucien sat next to her bed. the operation had gone well, Mr Sharkey was pleased with the result and was confident Joy would recover quickly.

A knock on the room door; Jean appeared.

She had been concerned that she hadn't seen Lucien for two days and a night. Charlie had related the whole story, and , much as she found Mrs MacDonald a bit too forward and flirty, she did not wish the woman ill.

'Lucien,' she whispered, 'how is she?'

'Mmm? Oh, still sleeping, but the operation went well, she should make a good recovery.' He yawned.

'Why don't you go home and get some proper sleep?' She moved over to him, 'I'll sit with her, if you like.'

Lucien was surprised. He knew Joy and Jean were struggling to get on together. He knew Joy was a bit 'modern' a bit forward. She always called Jean by her Christian name without being asked to, and Jean always called her 'Mrs MacDonald', which she was. He was touched by her generosity.

'Well...' he started to object.

'You haven't had a proper meal, a proper sleep or a shower in two days,' Jean pointed out, 'there is a stew in the oven and clean clothes in your room.' She stood with her hands on her hips, daring him to argue.

She was right, he realised, he must be 'less than fresh.'

'Thank you, Jean,' and as he passed he touched her arm in gratitude.

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End of chapter one. I know where I want to take this, but there will be at least a couple of chapters before the end.


	2. Chapter 2 What she wants

**Chapter 2 of Joy not dying, hope you like it.**

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Joy awoke, she couldn't feel any pain; well that was a good start. She wriggled a toe, no tingling. She turned her head to where she thought she would see Lucien. It wasn't him it was Jean, his buttoned up, rigid housekeeper.

'Oh, Mrs MacDonald,' Jean smiled, 'how do you feel?'

'Where's Lucien?' Joy grasped at familiarity, 'he said...'

'I sent him home,' Jean declared, 'he needed sleep, food and a shower. Now what can I get you? Do you want a drink?' She finished sympathetically

'Umm...yes, please,' she accepted, knowing, even in her blurry state, that Jean was doing her best, and she was right, Lucien needed to look after himself.

Jean helped her take a drink of cool water and Joy found it refreshing, but what she desperately wanted was her teeth cleaning. She sucked her teeth; urgh, her mouth tasted awful!

'Would you like me to help you clean your teeth?' Jean offered.

'Oh, please,' Joy couldn't express her relief, she hated 'morning breath!'

Jean helped her clean her teeth, washed her face and brushed her hair, and, truth to tell, Joy was grateful.

'Thank you, Jean,' she smiled, 'you are so kind.' Her eyelids fluttered and she fell into a light sleep.

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Lucien appeared later that day. He had been given the updates on Joy's condition and he was pleased. He looked into the room and saw Jean straightening Joy's bedclothes and smiled. Joy was awake. He was not oblivious to the dynamics between the two and was happy to see Jean being so tender, as if administering to a child, which, to be honest, Joy was of the age to be. And that was when it hit him, Joy was young enough to be his daughter, was he being a 'sugar daddy'. Did he dare to hope she could be interested in him as a husband or lover.

'Well, hello,' he grinned, 'You look a lot better.'

Jean stood up and looked at him; she knew what was going on between them and, although she wished Lucien luck, she knew that Joy was not the one for him. She put it down to jealousy, but it was also survival. Housekeeper's positions were hard to come by these days, and she liked working for Lucien. It wasn't just being a housekeeper, it was helping him solve the puzzles, keeping him in line, he'd said, giving him a good talking to occasionally, there was so much more and she was not sure Joy MacDonald could do all of that. She had her reservations, Joy was far to nosey.

'She's had her teeth cleaned, and a drink,' Jean whispered, 'do you think I should get her things from her lodgings? She may need them.'

Lucien looked at her, she was so much more than his father had ever intimated, very wise and so very caring.

'That's a very decent idea, Jean,' he tried to sound like an employer, but sounded more like a friend, a very close friend!

Jean smiled and left the room.

Lucien went to Joy. He checked her vital signs and tickled her feet, maybe he shouldn't but it gave him comfort to know that her legs had the appropriate reactions He sat in the chair next to her bed and held her hand...

Joy turned her head towards him and gave a little smile.

'Hello,' Lucien whispered, 'How're you feeling?'

'No pain, so that's good, isn't it?' She looked for reassurance, 'but I'm sleepy, I keep nodding off.'

'Yes, it's good there's no pain,' he admitted, 'although you have been given analgesics, as we lower the dose we'll find out just how little pain you have. You seem to have the right reaction when I tickle your feet, so that's also good. No more pins and needles?'

'No, they've gone.' She sighed and her eyelids fluttered as she fought the wave of sleep that passed over her.

'Sleep,' he squeezed her hand, 'I'll stay here. Jean's gone to get your things from your hotel.'

'Oh, er...thanks, I think.' Joy looked a little worried that Jean would be going through her things.

Lucien didn't quite understand why she should be worried, 'Messy room, hey?' He hazarded a guess that she was like him, untidy, too busy reporting and investigating to worry about keeping things tidy.

Joy gave a weak smile in assent. Let him think that.

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In Joy's room Jean looked around at the clothes lying over the chair, a folder of papers tossed on the bed and an open suitcase. She sighed, even Lucien wasn't that untidy!

She folded the clean clothes and put them in the suitcase, with the folder on top. She put her toiletries in the bag and put than to one side; Joy would need that as well as a clean pair of pyjamas and the robe from the back of the door. She took the laundry and put it in her basket, she could take that home and see to it for her. She hoped Mrs MacDonald wouldn't think she had been too forward in doing this, but she reasoned that the young woman would not be back in the hotel for a while. So what to do with the room? Keeping it available would be expensive and a waste of money. The only thing she could do was pay the bill and take her things to the doctor's house for now. She was sure this was what Lucien would want, but did she dare use one of the signed cheques she carried from Lucien so she could pay bills when he was not about? To prevent her having to chase him for signed cheques for things like the rates and grocery bills he had suggested he sign half a dozen blank cheques and she was then free to pay bills when needed. He trusted her not to run off with his money in a fit of pique! She sighed, she'd take the chance and suffer the consequences later.

Jean took Joy's belongings to the house and put them in the spare room, she'd deal with them later. Now she had to get on with her housekeeping duties and prepare for surgery. Lucien should be back for his patients soon and she would volunteer to sit with Joy, if he wanted her to. Frankly she'd rather not, but if she was seen to deliberately try to ignore the woman she and Lucien would fall out, and she didn't want that.

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Lucien arrived in time to have some lunch before afternoon surgery and Jean told him what she had done. He was touched by her thoughtfulness, and agreed that she was right to pay for the room and bring Joy's things over. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she thought it would be a good idea for Joy to convalesce there when they released her from hospital, but thought better of it. He reasoned it might be a step too far for Jean and he valued her too much to have her fight her inner demons as regards his feelings for Joy.

'Do you want me to go a sit with her?' Jean asked as she cleared away the plates.

'No, that's alright Jean, but thank you for offering.' Lucien looked at her and smiled, 'I'd like you to stay and greet the patients as usual, please.'

Jean turned round and looked at him, there was something else he wanted to say, but was struggling to find the right words as usual. Whatever he said she would have to take in the spirit it was given.

'Er... Jean,' he stood up and went towards her, 'Thank you, I know it isn't easy for you. I'm aware you are not, shall we say, in favour of Joy, but she is my friend and I'd like her to be yours too.'

'I'm sorry Lucien,' she looked into his eyes, she thought he looked worried, but not about Joy, 'I find her a little forward, shall we say. Perhaps I'm just old fashioned, but I was not brought up to call an older person by their Christian name unless invited to first. And I find it...' How could she phrase it, offensive? No, that wasn't it, '...just a little discourteous. That said, if you want her here to visit or to eat, I will be happy to accommodate her. It is your house, after all.'

Lucien squeezed her forearm, gently, she was such a good person, he was lucky to have someone like her in his life. Perhaps, if he hadn't met Joy...

He turned and went to the surgery to prepare for the afternoon of minor ailments and checkups, secure, for now, in the knowledge he had two lovely people in his life.

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Joy continued to improve in the hospital. Lucien visited her daily and stayed longer than the nursing staff would have liked, but he was a doctor and it was his prerogative to see to his patients as he saw fit. Jean, in her turn visited whenever Joy needed clean nightwear or replacement toiletries, or when Lucien was otherwise engaged with a case, but remained cool and in Joy's words 'buttoned-up!'

The time came when Joy was deemed fit enough to leave hospital, but where she was to go nobody could determine. The nursing sister suggested she go home, but it was a long journey and Nicholson and Lucien both thought it would be a bit of a strain for her, and anyway they needed to oversee her continued progress. There was a nursing home nearby where patients often went to convalesce, and it was determined they should look into that, initially.

Jean went to visit Joy one afternoon. Lucien had been called to a case on the outskirts of town so Jean thought she would take her some clean pyjamas and offer to take the others away for laundering. Joy looked almost pleased to see her, she couldn't get round Jean's attitude to her. She noticed she was kind, but stiff, a bit formal; however she had done an awful lot for her, for which she was grateful. Joy had asked her to call her by her Christian name,

'Thank you, Joy, ' Jean replied, not adding 'and you can call me Mrs Beazley.' It was too late for that!

'Jean,' Joy spoke, she heard Lucien and the nurses talk about the nursing home and wanted to know more about it. 'They are talking about sending me to a nursing home to convalesce. Do you know anything about it?'

'Yes, it's close to the hospital, quite nice and bright, but the residents are, shall we say, a little mature.' Jean couldn't let her think it was like a holiday camp, there were a lot of elderly patients there, it would drive her mad. She thought for a moment, she would have to grit her teeth and make the suggestion.

'Why don't you come and stay with us? I can make up the guest room for you, you would have a doctor on hand and we also have the district nurse lodging with us, so you would be well cared for.' Jean stood by the bed, her hands clasped in front of her, her nails digging into her palms, hoping she'd decline the invitation. There again she could keep an eye on her and Lucien. That sounds like a mother protecting her daughter from a predatory male, when in fact she was protecting Lucien from a predatory female! She mused.

'Oh Jean,' Joy looked positively delighted, just what she wanted, Lucien handed to her on a plate, at least that's what she thought, 'Thank you. Are you sure it won't add too much to your work?' What did she do all day, anyway? 'And won't Lucien mind?' It's his house anyway.

'Oh, I'm sure he'll be quite happy to have you stay,' Jean replied, glibly, as if she invited people over every day without asking him, when in fact, it was usually Lucien that invited people to dinner or to stay without letting Jean know first.

'Then I accept,' and Joy grinned at her again.

'What are you too plotting?' Lucien had just got back from the morgue, having finished his autopsy and the findings had been handed to Matthew.

'I've just suggested Joy stays with us while she convalesces,' Jean answered brightly.

Lucien raised his eyebrows, first at Jean calling Joy by her first name and then at the selfless act of asking the one woman in Ballarat she would rather run out of town, to stay with them.

'She can have the guest room, it has its own, admittedly small, bathroom so she won't have to climb the stairs at all.' Jean reasoned, 'She will have both a doctor and a nurse to see to her medical needs, and it's not really any more work for me.'

Jean put her hands in her coat pocket, she'd made her palm bleed digging her nails in and she couldn't let Lucien or Joy see what an effort it had been to be so darned accommodating.

'Jean, that's a splendid idea, ' Lucien felt like kissing her, but refrained, he'd probably get slapped, by both of them! 'You're quite right, of course, I don't know why I didn't think of it!'

At that Jean just raised her eyebrows, 'Of course you didn't Dr Blake,' she thought, 'but you knew I would, you just put me in the situation I couldn't avoid, and you'll pay for that, one day.' But it wasn't an unkind thought.

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So what's going to happen when Joy gets her feet under the table, eh? Next chapter brewing. Thanks for the reviews, especially from the 'I'm not a fan of Joy club!'


	3. Chapter 3 Nightmares

**So, how is life going to be in the Blake household with Joy there too?**

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'You did what?' Mattie exclaimed, when Jean told her she had invited Joy to stay while she convalesced. 'Jean, you can't stand the woman and I'm not keen either. I think she's manipulating Lucien!'

Jean had waited until Lucien was out of the house before she told Mattie about Joy coming to stay. She knew Mattie's opinions of the young woman and that she was bound to say something in front of Lucien without thinking!

'So do I. So what better way to keep an eye on them, than have her here?' Jean almost smirked. 'I worry that Lucien's head has been turned by a pretty face, I don't like the way she almost throws herself at him.'

'Me neither,' agreed Mattie, 'and she's young enough to be his daughter!'

Jean grinned, her thoughts exactly. 'So, Mattie, we are going to go on as usual. Lucien and, I'm afraid, you will deal with any medical issues, and I will cook and clean and be the dutiful housekeeper-receptionist until such time as I get to the bottom of what she is up to.'

'Do you really think she's up to something?' Mattie was surprised at Jean. She didn't usually have a suspicious nature, but she had been helping Lucien with his cases so perhaps she was learning to see beyond the face.

'Possibly,' Jean admitted, 'but even if she isn't I don't think she has his best interests at heart.'

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Lucien brought Joy over to the house one afternoon, just before surgery. Jean had made the guest room inviting. The bed was newly made, with a bright patchwork cover. She had unpacked Joy's clothes and hung them in the wardrobe and folded other things and put them into the chest of drawers. All Joy's laundry had been done. There was a small vase of garden flowers on the dressing table and a glass on the night stand. The folder of papers was on the end of the bed, in the state it was when Jean had first seen it. In other words , she had not snooped. Nothing had been left to chance; neither Joy nor Lucien could fault Jean for not making Joy feel welcome.

Joy smiled in delight at the room and said how pretty the cover was. She was sure Jean didn't go to this much trouble for other guests; but there again maybe she did. Jean was a consummate professional as a housekeeper and receptionist. She also noticed, but didn't comment on, the folder, and that the papers had not been disturbed. Inwardly she heaved a sigh, not daring to let anyone see how important it was that no one had seen what she was working on.

Jean told Joy how the household worked. She was up early and would prepare breakfast, but if Joy wanted to eat in her room to start with that was fine. During surgery she was almost as busy as Lucien so if Joy wanted to make tea for herself she was welcome to do so. Jean and Lucien would have tea half way through surgery, when they made sure they had that ten minutes for a break. She was told to make herself at home.

'Oh, Jean,' Joy gushed, which made Jean shudder, she didn't like over effusive gratitude, it seemed so false, 'I'll take my meals with you, if that's ok. I don't want to make any more work for you.'

Jean took that one and agreed it would be easier. Although conversation at meals would be different. She would find time to be with Mattie for a chat other times of the day.

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Jean and Mattie were having a chat while Jean put some washing on the line. It was one of the few times during the day they could talk freely. Jean had noticed that Lucien's night-time routine had changed, he would 'help' Joy to her room and ensure she had everything she wanted. These 'medical checks' took longer and longer each night and although Jean knew they hadn't started sleeping together she was sure it was only a matter of time. She had caught them in an embrace on more than one occasion, usually when they thought she was somewhere else in the house. Joy was not very subtle, she thought.

'You know, Jean,' Mattie said as she handed her another peg, 'I noticed last night that Joy didn't seem to welcome Lucien's advances too much. She allows him to hug her, but have you seen them kiss?'

'You're right,' Jean agreed, 'I only ever see them hug. Lucien tries to hold her close but she's pulling away. So what does she want?'

'God knows,' Mattie nodded, 'but I don't think it's Lucien.'

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Lucien thought he was moving too fast. Joy, he felt, was happy at the house, but there was something stopping her from being relaxed. Was it Jean? Was she worried about Jean catching them in a romantic clinch? He'd taken her out for a picnic but she was still holding back. Maybe he was right before. She saw their age gap as a problem.

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'Jean,' Joy's voice called through the house.

'In the living room,' Jean called back.

'Ahh, there you are.' Joy smiled. She was doing her best to win Jean's confidence, but it wasn't working, although Jean pretended it was.

'Can I get anything for you, Joy?'

'I was wondering,' Joy sat, carefully, on the couch, her back still ached, 'what happened to Lucien during the war?'

'Horrible things, he was a POW, you know.' Jean knew quite well that Joy was aware he had been a prisoner of the Japanese and had suffered unimaginable tortures, it was common knowledge.

'Yes, but he never talks about it.' Joy tried to look innocent.

'He will talk when he's ready, until then...'Jean spread her hands out, '...until then we just have to support him the best way we can.'

'Have you ever asked him?' Joy suggested the worst idea ever.

'Heavens, know!' Jean was appalled, 'The nightmares tell me enough.'

'He has nightmares, I didn't know.'

'You must be a heavy sleeper,' Jean was surprised, Mattie and she were regularly wakened by him shouting. Jean would go into his room and soothe him with gentle words and soft touches. She knew people would find it inappropriate if they knew she sat with her employer in his bedroom in the dead of night, and it would add fuel to the gossip about them.

'Er...yes I am.' Joy was not very convincing.

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Jean recounted this conversation to Mattie one day when they were alone.

'Nobody sleeps through one of his nightmares, unless he give her a sleeping tablet, and a strong one at that!' Mattie scoffed. 'She's avoiding the issue, or not wanting to do anything about it.'

'Perhaps it's just as well,' sighed Jean, 'I dread to think what would happen if she found me in his bedroom in the middle of the night.' Jean raised her eyebrows at the very thought. Even Lucien was unaware, as far as she knew, that she spent a lot of time calming him during the night.

'Well, if she is waking then she must know that someone is with him.' Mattie was suddenly worried for her friend's reputation, 'so be careful, she is a reported after all.'

'It would ruin both our reputations,' Jean looked saddened at the thought, a lot of fuss over nothing, in her opinion. 'But surely she wouldn't want to damage Lucien's?'

'Maybe not, but she probably won't care about yours!'

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Jean opened the front door and took the shopping into the kitchen. The house was quiet, Lucien was out on a case, Mattie was on shift so there should only have been Joy in the place. She knocked on her room door, to ask if she'd like a cup of tea. Getting no answer she pushed the door open, the room was empty. She wandered round the house until she came to Lucien's room. The door was ajar, it should have been closed. Pushing it open just enough to see inside she was horrified to see Joy. She was searching through Lucien's chest. The one that had all his letters, diaries, pictures; everything from the war. Even Jean didn't look in there. She'd only done it once and had been left in no doubt that it was out of bounds.

'Joy!' Jean let out a shout, 'nobody goes in there. It's private to Lucien.'

'Oh, Jean,' Joy went red, embarrassed at being caught, 'I only wanted to see what had happened to Lucien during the war.'

'You know he won't talk about it and you are invading his privacy which he guards so closely.' Jean was angry. 'Get out of this room and never enter it again unless you are invited by the doctor!'

Joy slipped past Jean and headed to her room. 'Damn!' She cursed to herself, 'That didn't go well. Will she tell him?' She hoped not, but she would find it hard to mend the bond she (thought) she had with Jean.

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'Are you alright, Jean?' Lucien asked at dinner, he noticed she looked pale and tense.

'Yes, thank you Lucien,' Jean managed a weak smile, 'I have a headache, quite a bad one. I think I'll go to bed with some Bex.'

'Can I do anything?' He was concerned, Jean was never ill.

'No, I'll be fine.' She left them to eat and headed to her room. She didn't really have that bad a headache, but she needed to have some time to herself and think what she was going to do. Should she tell him? Probably not, but she needed to tell someone. Maybe Mattie would take the hint and come and see her after dinner. Fingers crossed. She changed into her pyjamas, took some Bex and climbed into bed. Half an hour later there was a knock at the door. Jean was just about drifting off to sleep.

'Yes?'

'Jean, it's me.' Mattie's voice, soft and concerned.

'Come in.' Jean sat up to greet the young nurse.

'A headache?' Mattie chided, 'Really?'

'Actually, I do have one,' Jean whispered, 'just not that bad.'

'What's going on?' Mattie thought Jean looked tearful.

'I found Joy going through Lucien's war chest.'

'What!?' Mattie was incredulous. 'He guards that with his life.'

'I know.' Jean let a tear fall down her cheek. 'Oh Mattie, what is she up to? Lucien has enough demons without her resurrecting others.' She angrily rubbed away the tear, she didn't even know why she was crying.

Mattie touched her shoulder and Jean leaned in.

'Mattie,' she whimpered, 'I couldn't bear it if she hurt him, he's been through enough.'

Mattie stroked her back, poor Jean, she thought, it must be hell to be in love with someone who is making eyes at another, younger, person.

'We'll sort it, don't you worry.' She soothed, 'but the one thing we mustn't do is tell tales. He has to find out himself.'

She held Jean until she fell asleep, and then settled her in her bed.

Downstairs she saw Lucien and Joy close together on the couch. Lucien had his arm round her shoulders and he was kissing her head. Joy was accepting of the attention but Mattie wasn't sure she was enjoying it. Now, even though Mattie had absolutely no designs on Lucien, when he had comforted her with hugs and kisses (to the head), she had relaxed, much more than Joy was doing. So, what was going on?

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Lucien lay in bed pondering his relationship with Joy. It was not what he expected. He'd thought when she came to stay they would become closer, but they seemed to be growing apart. She seemed to pull away when he went to kiss her, or even hold her, and he didn't know what the heck he had done wrong. He knew he couldn't ask Jean, she'd only asked Joy to stay out of loyalty to him, so what to do?

Another nightmare; and still the same distant, soothing voice he couldn't quite identify. But he liked it and if he could find the owner of the voice he knew his troubles would be over.

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I think the next chapter will be the last. The conclusion, I hope, we all want.


	4. Chapter 4 A Bombshell

Jean put Joy's laundry on her bed; Joy had thanked her for doing the laundry and had suggested she just put it on the bed and she would put it away. The familiar folder was there, papers spilling out of it. After finding Joy going through Lucien's war chest she had found it difficult to trust the young woman. Lucien, she had noticed, was increasingly distant from both of them. He avoided Jean and was less tactile towards everyone. Even his interest in Joy seemed to be waning. Jean was also noticing the level in the whisky bottle was going down faster than ever. This was a sure sign of stress.

The papers were enticing. Jean looked at them but she dared not touch them, but, surely, if she just looked at what was showing...

'Alistair North, Captain. Treated by Major Dr L Blake, died 8 July 1943.' Who...

A step in the hallway, Jean left the room with a pile of laundry she was distributing to the other rooms.

'Hello, Joy,' she greeted the young woman, cordially, 'your laundry is on your bed.'

'Thank you, Jean.' Equally cordial.

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Jean strolled into Matthew Lawson's office, she had some fresh baked shortbread for the men. It was a pretext; she wanted to speak to Matthew, the only person other than Mattie she could trust at the moment.

'Hello, Jean,' he grinned, noticing the basket that usually contained 'goodies'.

'Matthew,' she smiled back, 'I've been baking and thought you and your men would like some shortbread to go with your tea.'

'Well... oh Jean you shouldn't have, but thank you. Why isn't Lucien twice the size he is?' He laughed, there was a look on her face that said: 'A word, please. In private.'

'So, Jean, what can I do for you?' He showed her into his side office. He rarely used it but it was handy for more confidential discussions.

'Can you find out anything about a Captain Alistair North. He died on eighth July 1943. Apparently he was treated by Lucien.' Jean offered no explanation and Matthew didn't need one.

'Your ears only?' He opened his eyes wide.

'Please.' She rose from her chair and was gone.

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Two days later Jean had a call from Matthew, could she call round to the station, any time to suit?

Jean hesitated to leave Joy in the house alone but was anxious to find out what Matthew had learnt so she set a time and told Joy she was going shopping, asking if she needed anything.

'No, thanks Jean,' Joy called cheerfully from her room.

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'Ahh...Jean.' Matthew showed her to the small side office, telling Bill and Charlie he was not to be disturbed.

'Matthew,' Jean studied his face, he had that serious, Lucien's been up to something look, 'You've found out something I'm not going to like, haven't you?'

'Alistair North,' he indicated she should sit down, 'Captain North was Mrs MacDonald's elder brother. Quite a bit older, I guess Joy must have been a bit of a surprise. Alistair was twenty-three when he died. He was in the same camp as Lucien.'

'So...,' Jean paused, deep in thought, 'the papers I saw on her bed...No, Matthew, I didn't touch them, what I saw was on view' He had looked at her in shock, thinking she'd rifled through someone's private papers. 'Is she investigating Alistair's death, or Lucien's part in it?'

'I don't know, but I think I know who is going to come off worst.' Matthew wasn't sure if he could do anything, no crime had been committed yet. 'Keep any eye on him Jean, I have a nasty feeling he's going to need you.'

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Jean picked up a few inconsequential things in town to give a reason for he going out. She also picked up a bottle of whisky for Lucien. Much as she hated his drinking , this time she'd forgive him.

'I'm back,' she called as she walked through the door, giving Joy time to hide whatever she was doing. Right now Jean needed to act as if everything was absolutely normal while she worked out what to do. She needed Mattie, but couldn't use the excuse of a headache again. Lucien would think she was really ill and would insist on checking her over. She found Joy innocently sitting in the living room, reading a magazine. 'Tea?'

'Thank you, Jean, that would be lovely.' Just once, Jean thought, meanly, 'you could put the kettle on when I come through the door.' She knew she was the housekeeper but even Lucien made her a cup of tea occasionally.

While Jean was in the kitchen Joy took whatever was in the magazine to her room. She put it just inside the folder, marking the page with another sheet of notes.

Joy joined Jean in the kitchen and they sat in apparent companionable silence.

'Lucien and Mr Nicholson seemed please with your progress.' Jean felt she had to say something, the silence was awkward.

'Yes.' Joy smiled back, 'I still get backache, but that is to be expected. I guess it's just something I'll have to learn to live with.'

The sound of the key in the door alerted Jean to Lucien's return.

'There's tea if you'd like some,' she called, brightly.

'Thank you, Jean,' came his answer, 'In my study, if you wouldn't mind.'

'Alright.' She tried to sound as if it was totally normal for Lucien to head straight for his study. It wasn't; he usually came into the kitchen to say hello, and ask about her day; but he spent all his time hiding from both women, and even Mattie. 'Excuse me, Joy,' she got up, 'I'll just see to his tea.'

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Lucien was sitting at his desk, staring into space. He barely nodded to Jean when she went in and put the tea down in front of him. She watched him, his eyes, usually so bright and lively, were dull and sad, and she hated to think it, full of tears.

She sighed, it was heartbreaking to see him like this.

'Lucien,' she almost whispered his name, 'are you alright?'

'What, yes of course, why?' He almost snapped at her.

'You seem so...low these days.' She moved to his side of the desk, 'you know you can talk to me, if you need a sympathetic ear.'

He looked up at her, she was so... oh, what was the word? So...'kind' didn't do her justice. He struggled to fight the urge to bury his head in her breast and cry, sob like a child. He was losing Joy, possibly losing Jean and Mattie and he had no idea what to do, or indeed what he had done. So he did what he always did, snapped, avoided the issue and drank.

'It's alright, Jean, I'm just tired. Not sleeping well.' He turned his attention to some unopened letters on his desk, a dismissal.

Jean didn't believe him one bit. Yes, the bit about not sleeping well, he was having some awful nightmares and it was becoming harder to soothe him.

Jean left him and went to put his laundry away. The door was ajar, again. Lucien always closed the door, as if hiding something. She entered and put his laundry on the bed before turning to the chest of drawers. Her eyes scanned the room to light on the 'war chest'. It was open. It was never open, and things had been disturbed. The one time she had seen inside it, it was relatively orderly, but now it had almost been ransacked. Joy! She'd done it again! Jean was furious. Lucien would be apoplectic! She stood there looking at it, not knowing what on earth she should do. Should she feign innocence and ask Lucien if he had been looking for something, or should she confront Joy?

'Jean,' low and threatening, Lucien was standing behind her.

'Lucien,' she wheeled round, 'I...you know I would never, you have told me not to and I respect your privacy.' She knew she sounded desperate.

'Then who?' He was angry, very angry and scared, as if all his demons had flown out of the box at him.

'Lucien,' she took him by the arms, she never touched him like that but she needed his full attention, 'Last week, I caught Joy looking in it. I told her it was private and not to open it again. She said she wanted to know what had happened to you during the war. I told her not to ask questions and that you would say in your own time.'

Lucien looked at her in disbelief, but he knew Jean would never lie and she did respect his privacy.

'Lucien,' she took a deep breath and closed the bedroom door, 'Do you remember a Captain Alistair North. I know it's a long shot, you knew so many poor souls who never made it back, but it's important. Do you?'

A faint spark of recognition passed across his face, 'The name rings a bell, what has he to do with it?'

'You treated him in the camp,' she took him to sit down on the bed, 'he didn't make it.' She looked down at the floor. 'He was Joy's elder brother.'

'How do you know?' He couldn't believe Jean had been 'investigating'.

'I saw something on one of Joy's papers in her room. It was in plain sight, I didn't intentionally look. I saw the name and I asked Matthew to find out for me.'

'If she wanted to know about him she should have asked me' he said, 'I have all the details in a diary in the box.'

He leapt up and went to the box, throwing papers, books, letters and drawings on the floor. 'It's gone!' He stood staring down at the empty box, devastation on his face. All his dreaded memories now open for someone else to see, everything he wanted to forget but couldn't had been read by her.

'Why? Jean, why?' He buried his head in his hands.

'Only she knows that, Lucien,' she spoke so softly, so tenderly. Her heart ached for him, so much suffering. She rubbed his back, gently. She was aware this was perhaps not the actions of a housekeeper, more those of a much closer friend, but she couldn't just sit there while his world fell apart and not touch him, comfort him.

'I have to talk to her, Jean, I have to know why.' He stood up and straightened his waistcoat, decisively. 'I need my diary back, there's too much in there for her to see.'

'Why did you write it down?' Jean's voice was so quiet, so soothing, even in such a question.

'If I didn't I would have gone mad. I had to get it out of my head.'

He turned to her, 'Thank you Jean,' he whispered, 'Thank you for being my friend.' He leaned into her and very lightly kissed her cheek.

She stood as he left the room, then decided she'd better follow. She knew he wouldn't hurt a woman but his rage was now a quiet rage and he would use words rather than deeds to show Joy just how much she had wounded him.

Lucien didn't knock at Joy's door, he just walked in. There she was, sitting at the dressing table, writing, taking notes from what she was reading.

'You have something of mine, I'd like it back.' He spoke firmly and held out his hand.

She just looked at him, open mouthed, but did not hand back the book.

Lucien walked up to her and took it off the unit.

'Why, Joy? In God's name why would you want to read this?

'You killed my brother.' She said flatly, without emotion.

Lucien found the page with Alistair's death written down. 'It says here that Captain North died of a fever, infections from numerous wounds bullet and others.'

'You treated him,' she began to sound grimly furious, 'he died, you killed him. He promised me he'd come back.' Her voice rose, pain at her loss obvious to both Lucien and Jean, now standing in the doorway.

'A lot of men died in that camp. They had all told their loved ones they'd be back, not to worry, but they didn't go home. I spent so much time trying to fix them.'

'You should have tried harder!' Joy was screaming at him now.

Lucien finally let go of his tenuous hold on his composure.

'Do you want to know what they did to those of us who stole medicines, who stole fruit, who disobeyed orders!' As he spoke he threw off his tie, ripped his waistcoat and shirt off, buttons flying everywhere.

'Lucien!' Jean shouted, she wanted him to stop. She grabbed his arm but he just threw her hand off, knocking her to the floor in his fury.

He took his singlet off to reveal a muscular torso; his back was covered in scars. Knife wounds, whip lines the horrible reminders of the torture he had suffered in order to alleviate the suffering of his fellow prisoners.

Joy gasped, her hand to her mouth she sank to the floor. Tears flowed down her cheeks and she hugged her knees and began rocking like a child.

Lucien stood staring at the vision of a completely unbalanced woman, in the middle of a mental breakdown. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Jean pull herself up and realised he'd pushed her to the ground, and unforgiveable act in his mind. Moving over to her, he held out his hand to help her up.

'Oh, Jean,' as she came closer to him than she had ever done before, leaning her head on his shoulder, 'I am so sorry, how can you forgive me?'

'It's alright Lucien, I'm not hurt.' She leant over to the bed and pulled the cover off and wrapped it round his shoulders. 'Why don't you go and get another shirt on, or your robe?' She smiled a tender forgiving smile.

'Call the hospital,' he turned back to Joy, 'She needs specialist care.' Still thinking of others in spite of his own pain.

'I will, but you need to leave the room, now.' And placing her hand on his arm she led him out into the hallway.

Lucien almost shuffled off in the direction of his room while Jean made the call to the hospital. Giving enough detail for the right doctors to be ready for Joy, she replaced the receiver and went to quickly check on Joy. She was still rocking, in a kind of trance. Satisfying herself that Joy was in no danger, she closed the door and went to see to Lucien. She found him standing at the door to his room, gazing down at the contents of his war box, strewn over the floor.

'I'll put those away,' she touched his elbow and he jumped.

'Sorry, I was miles away,' he did his best to smile at her, and it wasn't a bad effort.

Jean crouched down and started to pick up the drawings trying not to look to hard at the images. The writing was easier not to read, she just piled the papers up, neatly and placed them in the chest. Closing it, she turned to Lucien who was still standing there. She hoped he wasn't going to have a mental breakdown too.

'Can I get you anything?' She offered.

'Err...no, thank you, I think I'll just lie down for a while.' He lay down on the bed, wrapping the cover around him. Jean went over to him and picked up his left foot,

'Since when, Doctor Blake, did we put out dirty shoes on the bed?' She took his shoes off and covered his feet with another blanket.

'Sorry Jean, it won't happen again.' And this time he really did smile, as his eyes closed.

'Sweet dreams, dear Lucien,' she whispered as she closed the door.

The ambulance arrived and Joy was given a sedative before being placed in the back and driven off to the psychiatric ward, where she would be assessed and her treatment and placement determined.

Mattie arrived just as the ambulance was driving off. Instantly alarmed she ran into the house,

'Jean! Lucien!' What had happened?

'Shh!' Jean appeared in to doorway to Joy's room, the folder in her hands She had determined she would burn it but she was going to look at what Mrs MacDonald had been writing first. If Lucien asked she would tell him but she wasn't going to show him.

'The ambulance, who...?'

'Joy,' Jean said simply. 'Come and have some tea, I'll tell you all about it and you can help me go through this paperwork.'

'Where's Lucien?'

'Sleeping, so be a little quieter, please.'

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They sat in front of the fire in the living room. As they went through each page it became obvious Joy had determined to find out about all the patients Lucien had lost during his internment, how they had died, what he had done to help. She had interviewed bereaved parents, been given photographs of the deceased, copies of the 'death notes'. It was a catalogue of pain. In her writing she was determined to ruin the man who she firmly believed had killed her beloved elder brother. Reading the words they knew they couldn't burn them, they would have to pass them to the doctors so they could see just how far into madness Joy had gone. All the while Jean told Mattie what had happened.

'I'll take them now.' Mattie help out her hands. 'We can't have them in the house for Lucien to find. I'll take her things too.'

Mattie left the house with everything that would remind Lucien of the bright seemingly smart girl he had briefly fallen for. Jean stripped the bed and remade it with fresh linen and a different cover. Well Lucien was wrapped in the patchwork one!

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Jean knew it would be some time before Lucien was fit to work properly. She had noticed the clasp on the box had a loop for a padlock so she bought one and fitted it one day when he was sitting in the garden. She took the key and put it in her jewellery box. She would let him open it when he was strong enough to stand the memories. She and Mattie ran the surgery, Lucien prescribed medication only for a couple of weeks solidly and then occasionally when he felt tired.

The nightmares returned with vengeance. Jean spent hours calming him, only returning to her room when she was satisfied he was past the worst of it. Lucien knew they were back and that he was waking her frequently. She said not to worry, but she might be a little late getting up sometimes, if he didn't mind.

Lucien still heard the voice in his dreams, telling him everything was alright and that he was safe, but he could never see the owner of the voice and it frustrated him.

One night the nightmare was particularly fierce. He was thrashing about, shouting, swearing. Jean leant over him, trying the usual words, but as she went to stroke his forehead he grabbed her wrist, tight. She gave an involuntary yelp which woke him.

'Jean?' he blinked 'What...it's you. You're the owner of the voice I can never reach. The one who keeps me safe.'

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Having said there would be one more chapter, I feel an epilogue is needed.


	5. Chapter 5 Full circle

The end of 'Constant', just wanted to tie everything up in a big bow! Thanks for the lovely reviews.

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Two years later:

Jean manoeuvred the pram into the hall. Tilly and Charlie were still asleep so she decided to leave them while she took the shopping into the kitchen. Almost immediately Lucien was by her side. He had heard her come through the door, well it wasn't easy to be quiet with a twin pram to pull through!

'Thought I heard you,' he grinned, looking into the pram at the two babies. Tilly was the image of her mother, dark hair and a sweet smile on her face, even in sleep, Charlie was more like him, fair haired and solemn.

'We have visitors,' he said, kissing her.

'Really, who?' She wasn't expecting anyone.

Lucien looked strangely tense, 'Joy,' he informed her, 'and her mother.'

'Joy?' Jean gasped. As far as they were aware Joy was in a psychiatric unit still being treated for her mental breakdown.

'Her mother takes her out once a month, to try to integrate her back into society.' Lucien whispered.

Tilly stirred and opened her blue green eyes. Jean turned her attention to the child and picked her up, Lucien picked up Charlie and they stood there looking at each other. The one thing they agreed Joy had done for them was to make them realise just how much they meant to each other. They felt sorry for her, to be driven to do what she did, she must have adored her brother. Lucien still felt guilty, no matter how many times Jean told him it wasn't his fault.

The tea tray was on the kitchen table, waiting to be loaded; Lucien had known that Jean would want tea when she came in and had put out enough cups for them all.

Jean passed his daughter to him so he really had his hands full, while she prepared the tea and put out some shortbread she had baked that morning.

Taking the tray through she saw a woman, an older Joy. Still lovely looking, but sad, so sad. Next to her was the Joy she knew. Thinner than she had been, a faint echo of the woman who had entranced her, now, husband.

'This is my wife,' Lucien introduced Jean to Mrs North, 'and these are our children, Matilda Jean known as Tilly and Charles Lucien, Charlie to his friends.'

'Hello, Mrs North,' Jean placed the tray on the coffee table and turned to the younger woman, 'hello, Joy, how are you?'

'Mrs Blake,' Mrs North smiled at Jean, she thought she was so generous to greet her daughter that way, to ask about her health. 'I'm sorry to drop in unannounced, but the doctors thought it was time Joy faced those she had troubled the most.'

'I'm just so sorry we didn't recognise how troubled Joy was, Lucien has always regretted he missed the signs.'

Over the last two years, Lucien had indeed regretted he missed the signs of instability in Joy, especially when she started to reject him. Jean had long since given up trying to stop him wondering and had let him put it to the back of his mind in his own time. There the thoughts stayed and always would, it was just the way he was, intensely caring about everyone. He still regretted not being there when Nell Clasby passed away. The one thing, apart from their marriage and the twins, that had been a blessing was that he had finally let go of the chest, and it now resided in the loft, gathering dust. The key still lived in Jean's jewellery box, never used.

Joy remained head down until Jean sat next to her and took her hand.

Joy turned to her and whispered, 'I miss Alistair.'

Jean put her arm round her shoulders, 'I know, but as long as you remember him he will live on. Christopher, my first husband, is still with me. We never forget, nor should we, but we must forgive and move on.'

Lucien watched and listened to Jean's wise words and his heart ached for her tenderness towards the woman who nearly broke him.

Mrs North dabbed her eyes, but she could not let the morbid air continue, she looked at Lucien, standing there with his arms full of wriggling babies.

'How old are they, doctor?' She asked.

'Five months, now.' Lucien sat down, Tilly was such a wriggler and he was likely to drop her.

'Put them down on the floor, Lucien,' suggested Jean, she grinned, he loved them so much and her too, and his naturally tactile nature meant he held them as often as he could.

They sat drinking tea making polite conversation. Mrs North spoke for Joy, who was quieter than she used to be. She told them how close Alistair and Joy had been, in spite of being fifteen years apart. Joy was so named because she was their last chance to expand their family. She adored her big brother and he her, so when he left for the war he promised he would return. But he didn't and Joy's world had fallen apart. Her devotion to her brother had caused her husband to leave her unable to cope with Joy's extreme highs and lows and this had further sent Joy into a spiral of despair. Mrs North had no idea what she was doing in Ballarat, she had been told by Joy she had a job on a paper and was happy writing columns about all sorts of things. If she had known what she was doing, she would have collected her and had her committed. She could only apologise for the pain she had put Dr Blake through.

'If it is any consolation,' Lucien said, 'if it hadn't been for Joy I would never have seen what was right under my nose. The woman who could make my life complete, Jean.' He nodded towards his blushing wife.

'Lucien,' she was so embarrassed.

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That night as they lay in bed, the babies were asleep, and would be 'til morning, Jean cuddled close to her husband.

'Are you alright, darling?' She whispered in his ear.

'Jean, I am very much alright,' and he proceeded to show her just how 'alright' he was.

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I wanted to bring the story full circle, to end it how I feel we all want it to end, Lucien and Jean together. Also, I wanted Joy to have a proper ending, not just carted off in an ambulance, closure.


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